


New Suit

by littlelovelyspiderling



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Gen, Irondad, Platonic Relationships, Precious Peter Parker, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Spider-Man: Homecoming (Movie), Tickling, Ticklish Peter Parker, irondad gives playful tickles to his adorable spiderson the end, spiderson, ticklish!peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelovelyspiderling/pseuds/littlelovelyspiderling
Summary: Tony gives Peter a new suit that ends up having a few bugs. As usual, things go south for Spider-Man very quickly.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Kudos: 95





	New Suit

“How’s it feel, kid? Does it fit you all right?”

Peter beamed up at Tony, stretching his arms out his sides. “It’s perfect, Mr. Stark! This is amazing! How do you make this stuff so fast?”

Tony shrugged, smiling behind a sip of his coffee. “A fun mixture of insomnia, boredom, and constant anxiety in regard to your agenda against self-preservation.”

Spider-Man stood in the middle of a wide room. He was in the Avengers practice arena, parallel to the massive windows that faced the green field rimming the facility, grinning as wide as the sun. Only weeks after gifting him with the new and improved Iron Spider suit, which Peter figured was the ultimate cream of the genius billionaire’s technological crop, Stark had shown up out of the blue with _another_ costume for him to try on for size. The moment he put it on, Peter knew: it was the best of both worlds. It had all of the fancy bells and whistles of the Iron suit but all of the classic design aspects he loved from the original suit. The striking red and blue color scheme paired with the delicate web details were impeccable whether observed up close or from a distance, and his ability to make his mask appear or retract in an instant was a wonderful convenience. His favorite part was the addition of the massive spider insignia to the front of the costume, which stretched across his entire torso and curled around both shoulders and hips to meet the matching spider symbol stamped on his back. Peter struck a few poses in front of the glass, admiring his reflection.

“This is badass as _hell,_ Mr. Stark.”

Tony snorted quietly and set down his mug. “It’ll probably take a few runs to break it in and work out all bugs. Why don’t you swing around the room, make sure everything’s running smoothly?”

Peter was on the ceiling before Stark even finished talking. “You got it! Watch this!” He took off running across the upside-down surface, then leapt towards the ground with a tap on his palm. A thread of webbing shot from his wrist and latched on to a bar hanging near the top of the room. As he swung, he curled his knees to his chest, gathering momentum. At the perfect moment, he released his hold and flung himself through the air, somersaulting like a gymnast and whooping with glee before sticking to the far wall. He launched off sideways with a backflip and a twist, every movement faultlessly executed and exuding athleticism. It was an incredible display of flexibility, speed, and superhuman ability, as well as the kid’s seemingly inexhaustible supply of childish energy. Tony chuckled.

“Looks good. Toddler pajamas with a touch of sophistication.” He made a motion with his hand towards the ground. “All right, that should be enough. Come back down here, Tarzan.”

With a myriad of impressive leaps, Spider-Man dropped to the floor, letting the line of webbing slip through his fingers. He landed directly in front of Tony, retracting the mask from his face to reveal the brilliant smile underneath.

“I love this so much,” he said. If he was at all worn out from the crazy acrobatics show he had just put on, it didn’t show. “Can I take it outside for a really quick spin around the city?”

“Let me make a few minor adjustments tonight, then you can do with it whatever your little heart desires tomorrow,” Tony replied. Peter made a valiant effort to hide his disappointment, but Stark immediately discerned the slump in his shoulders and the fall of his expression. The kid had a bad habit of wearing all of his emotions on his sleeve, and for a person who was well acquainted with personalities and had grown to know the young superhero well, Peter was far too easy for Tony to read. But the cloud disappeared a second later, replaced by an understanding smile.

“Okay. Just let me try one more thing.” He stepped back from Mr. Stark and aimed his wrist at the opposite wall. “This is by _far_ my favorite feature of the suit.”

As he folded his middle and ring finger to the pressure point on his palm, Peter cupped his free hand around his mouth. _“Web grenade!”_

His voice echoed around the entire room, but nothing followed. It was painfully anticlimactic. Peter frowned and stared at the web-shooter.

“What the hell? It didn’t work.”

“That’s funny,” Tony mused, furrowing his brow. “I guess I’ll have to look into that.”

Peter shook his wrist experimentally. “Hmm. My web-slinging webbing worked fine. Do you think it’s just the special web types that aren’t working? Or maybe the projectile got jammed up inside the firing mechanis—?”

Before he could finish hypothesizing, the web-shooter exploded. Peter was knocked backwards with a screech of surprise. He hit the floor hard, landing on his back, dazed and reeling.

“Shit!” Tony yelled, flinching. A spray of web-fluid rained over him, but it was thin enough that he could easily tear through it. Spider-Man, he quickly discovered, was not so lucky. He ran to his side.

“Geez, kid, are you okay?” Tony asked, kneeling down to his level. Peter blinked bewilderedly.

“Ow,” he groaned. He tried to move but realized he was trapped beneath a bunch of globs of webbing. His legs and arms were pinned to the floor at awkward angles, and the spot on his head that had struck the ground ached a little. Thankfully, his face hadn’t been hit, so he could still breathe. But the rest of him was pretty well-lathered. “Um, I think I found a bug, Mr. Stark.”

Tony scoffed amusedly. “Yeah, I’d say so.” He poked at the sticky net plastered over the poor kid. “God, that could’ve been bad. I’m glad it happened now, and not during something life-or-death related. I’ll _definitely_ need to fix this.” He tried pulling at some of the web-blobs on his calf, but they wouldn’t budge. “Can you get out on your own?”

Peter squirmed, fully expecting that he could, but discovered that that was not the case. It seemed the webbing had landed on him in such a way that perfectly restricted all four of his limbs. After a minute of wrenching and struggling, Peter flopped in defeat. 

“I guess not,” he said sheepishly. “A little help here, please?”

Tony made a small knife out of his nano-tech watch and began sawing away at the webbing along Peter’s left side. He was careful to keep the blade far from the kid’s body, but didn’t think anything of pressing his hand against his stomach to keep himself steady. That is, until Peter winced.

Stark pulled back. “Oh, sorry. Did that hurt?”

Peter shook his head. “N-no, no,” he answered quickly. “No, you’re fine.”

He stared off to the side, avoiding Tony’s confused gaze. His face and ears were tinted a slight pink color. It almost looked like he trying not to smile.

“What, do you have a bruise or something?” he asked, gently pressing the same spot. This time, Peter yelped.

“S-stop it! Would you please just get me out of this?” Tony wondered why Peter was being so weird and anxious all of a sudden, until he finally put two and two together. He felt a smile spread across his face as the kid fought to keep his pitiful facade afloat.

“Oh, I get it,” he said. He kneaded his thumb into his side. “You’re ticklish, right?”

Spider-Man cringed. He held out for about two more seconds, squeezing his eyes shut and pursing his lips, before sharp giggles began to bubble from his throat. He wriggled and twisted with all his might but was unable to escape the webbing, and therefore unable to guard himself. He was totally and entirely trapped. It was endearing to see the kid go from exemplifying agility and power to wriggling on the floor, defenseless and immobile. Not to mention how rapidly he crumbled into a fit of giggling.

“Wha-ha!” he cried. “Mr. Stahark! Nohoho!”

“So you aren’t ticklish?” he asked, feigning innocence as he moved his hand down the extent of his torso, squeezing his side a little faster and harder. “I’m getting mixed signals here.”

Peter twitched and jumped at his every touch, squealing with laughter. Tony had heard Peter laugh plenty of times before, as he was a pretty happy-go-lucky kid to begin with, but this was completely different. His giggling now was more hysterical, high-pitched, and childlike than any other instance he’d ever witnessed. And he was barely even touching him.

“You’re like a wiggly little inch worm,” Tony chuckled. His hand followed the kid’s jerky movements, staying glued to his side as Spider-Man tried and failed to wriggle out of his reach. Peter burned with embarrassment, squirming and giggling, the tips of his ears flushing red. He absolutely _hated_ when people found out how ticklish he was. It was not a very heroic attribute to have, and worked against his ultimate goal of proving to everyone that he was more than the dumb kid with powers they made him out to be. The few people who did know always made sure to remind him of the fact whenever the opportunity arose, which never failed to render him pink and flustered. But now, having _Tony Stark_ find out? His mentor and idol? The _one_ person on earth he wanted to impress more than anything? And then for him to start _teasing_ him about it? This was mortifying.

“C-come ahahan! Thihis ihisn’t cool! Lehet me gohoho!” A loud squeak left Peter’s lips when Tony reached his hip, which made him grin.

“No thanks. I’m having fun.” Stark decided to add his other hand to the equation and began to viciously dig both of his thumbs into the kid’s hipbones. “Have you always been this sensitive? How come you never told me?”

Peter’s giggles turned into wild shrieks. “Ahaha— _nohoho!_ Mihister Starharhark!” He fought so hard to twist away from his mentor’s evil fingers, but every effort was in vain. It was like he knew exactly which buttons to push to drive him up the wall. It wasn’t uncommon for Tony Stark to poke fun at him from time to time, calling him ‘Underoos’ and giving him noogies in front of the Avengers just to make him blush. But Peter had never pegged the infamous Iron Man as the kind of person who would pull something like this over him the first chance he got. It was the most frivolous side of Mr. Stark that Peter had seen, but also the most merciless. There was nothing he could do but laugh himself silly, balling his hands into fists.

“Stahahap! Pleeheehease! Thihis is humilhiliating!”

Tony smiled. “Humiliating? I wouldn’t say that. You shouldn’t be ashamed of something you can’t help.”

His hands started jumping all over his vulnerable torso, clawing and scribbling at Peter’s unbearably sensitive belly. The sudden leap in Spider-Man’s voice made it clear he was exploring a particularly ticklish area. Tony pinched his midriff, poked around his waist, and kneaded at the soft spot just below his ribcage. He watched the kid fall to pieces beneath his tummy attack and couldn’t suppress a chuckle.

“This could become a problem, though. Just think of how super villains could use this against you!” He skittered his nails across Peter’s tummy, chuckling at his hysterical reaction. “I suppose the only logical thing to do now is test the extent of your sensitivity.”

Laughter racked the entirety of Spider-Man’s tiny frame. He hiccuped and squeaked and felt dread well up inside him. “W-whahahat!?” he cried.

The Avenger raked his sides with agonizingly slow movements, then drilled his fingers into every inch of ticklish skin, focusing the majority his attention on his ribs. Each new technique he tried invoked a stronger, more giggly reaction from the poor teen.

“Well, since this is obviously such a big weakness of yours, I’ve got to find all your tickle spots,” he explained. “How else will I know how to design a suit that can best protect you from all the baddies out there who might use this against you?”

Peter whipped his head back and forth helplessly. “Nohohaha! Noho you dohohon’t! Pleeheeheehease! Just—just— _EEHEEHAHAHA!”_

Five ruthless fingertips suddenly crept up to his left armpit. They twitched and fluttered against the sensitive skin, sending Peter into a frenzy. He screeched, straining with every ounce of his spider strength to rip his arms down and guard the unbelievably ticklish area, but it was no use. The smug grin that overtook Stark’s face solidified the fact that he was screwed.

“This wouldn’t happen to be one of those spots, would it?” He scooted closer to Peter’s head and began to stroke one finger up and down the length of his arm. Somehow, the bright red color that consumed the kid’s entire face grew even more prominent in the span of two seconds. Regardless of the way he bucked and winced, Tony’s finger continued its torturous journey across his defenseless skin, slowing and swirling as it returned to his underarm and driving him absolutely _insane._ As great as his new suit was, it did pretty much nothing to dampen the insufferable tickling sensation in the slightest. In fact, it might’ve actually made it _worse._ Stark started doing the same thing to his right arm, dragging his nails from his pit to his wrist and then back down again, and Peter thought he might die.

“STAHAHAP IT!” he begged. The long series of teasingly gentle tickling only made the build-up towards the more intense kind all the more daunting, and it was clear that Mr. Stark knew this. A smirk pulled at the corner of his lip.

“What? Would you prefer _this_ instead?”

And before he could protest otherwise, all ten of Tony’s fingers pounced on the hollows of Peter’s underarms. They burrowed and kneaded and squeezed with merciless ferocity, making the kid's nerves go haywire. Arching his spine and throwing back his head, Spider-Man was in tatters.

“AHAHAHAHA!” he bellowed. “NOHOHAHAHA!”

Tony simply chuckled in response and tickled him harder, encouraged by the kid’s crazy reaction. The shrill, bubbly laughter pouring from the young hero was without a doubt the cutest thing in the entire world. Like always, Peter was too precious for his own damn good. It was moment’s like this that made evident just how much of a kid Spider-Man still was.

Trapped and tickled pink for over four minutes now, Peter was at his wit’s end. The upper body tickling was beyond his ability to handle. Whatever the cost, whatever the sacrifice, he _had_ to make it stop.

“OKAHAHAY!” he whimpered piteously. “I GIHIHIVE UP! YOUHOU WIN! YOUHOU WIHIHIHIN!”

Mr. Stark grinned amusedly. “I win? What do I win?” He dug his thumbs deep into Peter’s underarms, making him laugh and shriek.

“EHAHAHAHOHO MY GAHAHAD! AHANYTHIHING! JUHUST PLEEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!”

To Peter’s disbelief, Tony’s hands suddenly lifted off him. The relief was so wonderful and unexpected, he wanted to cry. Stark watched the kid slump against the floor as he fought to catch his breath, huffing out airy giggles.

“All right, I’ll stop,” he said shrewdly.

“Aheheh…eheh…oh, thank god,” Peter moaned.

“On one condition.”

Spider-Man winced while panting softly. He didn't like the sound of that.

“You have to tell me where else you’re ticklish.”

Peter stared up at him with wide, puzzled eyes.

“So I can design your next suit accordingly, of course.”

The blush in his cheeks reached his neck. He shook his head timidly.

“W-why are you being so mean, Mr. Stark?” he asked. “Is this payback for something I did?”

“No.”

“Are you mad I messed up the new web-shooter?”

“No.”

Peter shifted uncomfortably. “Then what? Why won’t you just let me go?”

Tony poked his belly. “Because messing with you is really fun, and I rarely get the chance to. That’s why.”

Peter squeaked. “H-hey! You said you would stop!”

“Only if you tell me where all of your tickle spots are. Which you aren’t.”

The kid set his jaw and stared sideways shyly. “I know you’re lying. You’re just trying to embarrass me more.”

“You better start talking,” he teased, gently spidering his fingers against his underarms. Peter yelped.

“Ah-ha! Okay! S-stohop! I’m thinking!” He had no idea his mentor could be so cruel and so playful at the same time. When Stark laid off him again, he bit the inside of his cheek. “I…I don’t know. That’s such an awkward question.”

“No it’s not. This is for your own good, Peter. We both know all of your upper body is pretty sensitive. Now just tell me where else.”

Peter’s face went hot. “I—I really don’t know! I mean, my feet I guess are the only other place I can think of.” Having to say it out loud was an entirely new form of torment. Mr. Stark was being such an asshole and was fully aware of the fact.

“That’s it?” he asked curiously. “Nowhere else?”

Peter shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”

“What about your legs?”

The kid frowned at him. “My legs? Since when do people have ticklish legs?”

“So that’s a no, then?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Tony hinted a smile and immediately shifted right. He made a claw with his fingers then sprawled his nails over Peter’s knee. “So this doesn’t bother you?”

Spider-Man cringed and laughed sharply, the new sensation taking him by surprise. “Aha! Hehehey! That’s nohot the same thing as—”

“This?” he finished for him, and squeezed just above the kid’s kneecaps. A giggly squeal jumped from his throat before he could stop it.

“Ehaha! Quihit it! You promised!”

“You told me your feet were your only other spot, you liar. As your kind and loyal mentor who only wants what’s best for you, I’m very disappointed.” Tony moved and was suddenly sitting just above Peter’s head. His fingertip brushed against his neck, and he flinched.

“Ah! W-wait!”

“Don’t tell me I’ll have to reinforce _this_ part of your suit too,” he scoffed. He scuttled all ten fingers up both sides of Peter’s neck, and the poor kid shrieked.

“Ahaha! Oho _shihihit!”_ Nothing made him feel more like he was six years old again than when someone tickled his neck. His uncle used to do it to cheer him up before school, and his aunt had continued the tradition to this day whenever she managed to catch him off guard. Even though he knew how childish it would look, Peter couldn’t help but scrunch his head to his shoulder, helpless with giggles. “Mihister Starharhark!”

“You really do have a problem, little buddy,” Tony chuckled, worming his fingers between his shoulder and collarbone. He switched between both sides, attacking whichever one was left exposed. His dad was never playful with him when he was a child, not even when he was a _toddler,_ so it felt nice for him to break the cycle with a kid who no longer had a father figure around to mess with him like this.

Meanwhile, flushed to his core, Peter made his mask crawl back over his beat-red face. It hid his expression, but only slightly dulled his high-pitch laughter, which was the worst part of it all. “Nohoho morhore! Noho _morhorhore_ —ahaha! Pleeheehease!"

His voice cracked at the end of his plea, and he physically winced with embarrassment. It was so funny and unexpected, Stark laughed out loud. A mixture of pity and endearment suddenly swelled in his chest as he looked down at him. Despite being so strong and smart and determined, he was still such a kid. In the midst of saving the world from murderous aliens and working late nights in the lab together, that fact was often easy to forget. Especially when he had his mask on. After one last run across his neck, Tony finally lifted his hands off him. Peter gasped and melted with relief.

“Eheheh…oh gosh…oho man…”

“Well that was enlightening, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Shuhut up…”

The mask retracted back into his suit, revealing Peter's flushed face and dizzy smile. He gave the kid’s hair a rough tousle.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the other Avengers your little secret.” 

Peter grimaced shyly. “You aren’t really going to make me another new suit, are you?” he murmured. Tony’s face lifted into a grin.

“Probably not,” he admitted. He stretched out his hand and wiggled his fingers just above his belly. “But should we do one last run through, just to make sure we have all the data in line?”

Peter went rigid. “What? N- _no!_ Mr. Stark!”

“I think it’s a good idea. That way way can check to make sure you weren’t lying about your feet, since you lied about everywhere else. You know as well as I do that to yield accurate results, repeated and non-biased experimentation is the way to go.”

The kid started giggling again before he even touched him. “Nohoho! Wait! Crahap! Whyhyheehee!”

Tony went through the recap quickly, but with no less mercy than before. Peter’s earlier statement was proved correct the moment Tony’s fingers made contact with soles. Unfortunately, Stark felt the need to tickle every inch of his feet, just to make certain ‘the data is as detailed as possible’. Another two minutes of head-to-toe tickling later, and Spider-Man was utterly spent. Once Tony finally cut him free from the webbing, the kid needed a hand to get to his feet. He had to brace himself with a palm against the window to stay steady, wheezing with woozy laughter. His other arm hugged his stomach, which was sore from so much giggling.

“You…are…the _worst,_ ” he groaned, biting back a smile. They both knew he didn’t mean it.

“And you’re never going to live this down,” Stark retorted, pinching Peter’s side. He jumped sideways with a squeak.

“Hey guys,” a new voice suddenly called. Both of their heads snapped up in surprise.

Steve Rogers approached from the opposite side of the room with Natasha and Sam on his heels. The group walked towards them, Cap boasting a friendly expression, but then he stopped, narrowing his eyes. “Wait, what’s going on? What’s with the new costume, Spider-Man? And why are you covered in webbing?”

Peter swallowed, burning with embarrassment, unable to make words. He turned to Tony, who met his gaze with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips. He had promised he wouldn’t tell, but he had also promised he wouldn’t tickle him more if Peter told him where else he was sensitive, and look how well _that_ had turned out. At this point, he could only hope that his mentor would keep his mouth shut. Otherwise, Spider-Man was certain he would never, _ever_ hear the end of this.


End file.
